


Not Always a Genius (The Green Apron Remix)

by heyjupiter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Comfort Food, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-10 09:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15946799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: Five times Bruce cooked for Tony and one time Tony (tried to) cook for Bruce.





	Not Always a Genius (The Green Apron Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trammel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Not Always a Genius](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587757) by [Trammel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/Trammel). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Trammel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/Trammel) in the [remixrevivalmadness2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixrevivalmadness2018) collection. 



> This is a remix of Trammel's lovely [Not Always a Genius](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587757). 
> 
> Thanks to volunteerfd for beta reading! ♥

1 )

Bruce woke up feeling disoriented and hungry, which wasn't unusual. But he was dressed in soft sweatpants and a T-shirt, and he was in a bed that was more comfortable than anywhere he'd ever slept in his life. So far, all signs pointed to him having been human when he went to sleep. He sat up and turned on a bedside lamp. Was he in a hotel room? Then he looked down at his shirt. It had a Stark Industries logo on it, and he remembered where he was.

Bruce had come back to himself amidst the wreckage of New York City, exhausted and confused. Tony Stark had given him clothes and dragged him to eat shawarma with the rest of the Avengers (falafel, for Bruce). And then he'd brought Bruce back to what was left of Stark Tower. The top part had been damaged in the battle, but there were still dozens of perfectly functional floors. Tony had set Bruce up in this guest room, where Bruce had immediately passed out.

The room's digital display informed him that it was a little after 3 a.m. Bruce thought it had been early evening when they'd gotten back. He'd probably slept for at least nine hours. He thought about trying to fall back to sleep for a few more hours, until other humans might reasonably be expected to be awake, but his stomach growled loudly. Bruce sighed and decided to see what he could find to eat. Surely there was a kitchen somewhere in this enormous building?

Barefoot, he quietly crept down the hallway. He passed a lot of closed doors and thanked his lucky stars when the hallway ended in a lovely open plan kitchen/lounge area. His luck ran out when he opened the refrigerator and found it completely empty, not even a stray ketchup bottle or soda. He opened up cabinets at random and found some non-perishable staples--canned goods, flour, sugar, coffee, peanut butter. He smiled at the peanut butter--it was one of the few things he'd missed about the USA while he'd been away. He thought about just eating the peanut butter with a spoon, but decided to elevate things a bit.

Bruce opened another cabinet and found a beautiful set of pots and pans. He pulled out a skillet and a mixing bowl and set about making dough for roti, making the recipe as well as he remembered. He enjoyed the kneading the dough, the soft squish between his fingers grounding him. He forced himself to stop kneading it before it became too tough. He set the dough aside to rest and did a few standing yoga poses while he waited; nothing too fancy, just a few movements to keep re-acquainting himself with his puny human body. He was standing on one foot in tree pose, rolling out dough, when he heard, "Hey, big guy, what's cooking?"

Bruce turned and saw Tony standing in the doorway. His new friend looked haggard, with circles under his eyes and bruises and cuts marring his handsome face. Bruce winced. "Sorry, did I wake you?" He thought he'd been pretty quiet, but he had no idea where Tony and Pepper's bedroom was.

"Nah, I woke myself up. JARVIS told me you were in here."

"JARVIS?" 

"Oh, right, you two haven't been formally introduced. He's the AI who runs everything around here. Say hi, JARVIS."

"'Hi, JARVIS,'" a droll British voice said.

Tony snorted. "Everyone's a comedian. Anyway, if you ever need anything around here, you can just ask JARVIS and he’ll do his best to help you out. Right, J?”

“I live to serve, sir.”

“Um, good to know. Thanks...JARVIS. Nice to meet you?”

“The pleasure is mine, Dr. Banner.”

Tony sat down on one of the high stools at the counter and asked, “Seriously, though, what are you making? I didn't think there was any food on this floor.”

"Uh, sorry," Bruce said, hoping he hadn't overstepped. "I'll clean up when I'm done...I was just making some roti."

Tony peered more closely at the counter. "Oh, like naan?"

"Yeah, basically, like unleavened naan. I didn't find any yeast, so."

"Hmm. We could just order takeout." 

"Well...I already made the dough, I don't want to waste it." Bruce shaped the first roti and put it on the skillet. He watched it puff up and subside back into a golden brown flatbread. It didn't look quite like what his neighbors in Kolkata used to make for him, but it was decent for 4 a.m in a strange kitchen with no ghee. He plated it and set it on the counter in front of Tony, along with the jar of peanut butter and a butter knife. He was glad he hadn't resorted to eating the peanut butter with a spoon.

Tony stared at the plate, then up at Bruce. "You _made_ this?"

"It's not much, I know, but..."

Tony held up a hand. "It's 4 a.m. You saved the world from evil aliens like 12 hours ago. You rolled out of bed and _made bread from scratch_?" From his tone, Bruce was pretty sure that Tony was impressed, rather than mad, but he wasn't 100% confident. He decided to apologize, just in case. He wouldn't normally have just started cooking in someone's kitchen in the middle of the night, he'd just been hungry enough that it had seemed like the best option.

"Yeah? Sorry...I, uh, get hungry, after...after transforming." Bruce looked down at the counter, preparing the next roti.

"Sorry? You're--no, Bruce, _I'm_ sorry, I know you were too tired for a tour before, but I should have--should have had JARVIS check on you, or left a note or something, you didn't have to wake up alone in a strange place and make yourself bread like some kind of hobbit."

"Elf."

"What?"

"The elves made the lembas bread."

"You're telling me hobbits didn't know how to make some kind of bread? Those little dudes were always eating...anyway, that's not my point. My point is, I'm usually a much better host than this. I was just a little...distracted."

"I can't imagine why," Bruce said drily. "Anyway, this is the nicest strange place I've ever been. Besides I like to cook...it's kind of relaxing." He put the next roti on the skillet.

"Is _that_ your secret? What keeps you calm is unleashing your inner Martha Stewart?"

Bruce laughed. "Yeah, you got me. Don't let word get out, though."

"I'll take it to my grave. But, hey, you should have the first one, if you're hungry," Tony said.

"No, it'll only take another minute for this one. Go on, eat it while it's warm."

He heard Tony take a bite, and then say, "Oh my _god_."

"Is it okay?" Cooking experiments weren’t usually as risky as scientific experiments, but maybe Bruce should have tasted the first roti to make sure it was actually edible before he blithely gave it to one of the richest men in the world. 

"Bruce, it's fucking delicious."

Bruce smiled. After a minute, he took the next piece of roti off the skillet, slathered it with peanut butter, and devoured it in a few bites. "Yeah, it did turn out pretty good, I guess," he said. It was warm and light, and, of course, hunger was the best spice. He shaped another piece of dough.

"So, I figure we'll get some quotes from contractors later today," Tony said. Working closely with Tony on the helicarrier, Bruce had already gotten used to the way Tony abruptly changed conversational topics.

"Sure," Bruce agreed absently, placing the next circle of dough on the skillet. "I'm sure it'll be a big project to rebuild here."

"What will you need?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, for a work space. I can already tell you're going to need a great kitchen, better equipped than this one. And obviously we'll get you set up with a better bedroom than that little guest room."

Bruce blinked as he processed what Tony must have meant. "Oh, for me? No, I--Tony, I really appreciate you letting me crash here tonight, and use your kitchen and all, but I've got to move on."

"What?"

"Tony, you know it's--you know it's not safe for me to be here."

"It's safer if you _are_ here, Bruce. You saved my life."

"Okay, well, maybe, but--"

"Maybe?"

Bruce shook his head and flipped the roti. "I--I don't remember what the Other Guy does. And I can't control him, he's so unpredictable."

"JARVIS, show him the footage."

"Oh, no, I don't--" Bruce started to say, and then watched as a holographic display popped up on the wall above the stove. Bruce watched the Other Guy scale a building with determination and catch Iron Man out of the sky. He carried Tony with more coordination and grace than Bruce had ever seen or heard of the Other Guy doing. Bruce preemptively winced when he thought the Other Guy would hit Tony, but instead, he took a step back and awoke Tony with a roar. "Huh," he said. The video footage disappeared.

"See? So you have to stick around. Who else is going to catch me when I fall?"

"Well--"

"Exactly. Anyway, so, just tell me what you need, and I'll make sure it ends up in the blueprints. I can't wait for you to see how efficient the arc reactor is. And you are going to love our clean energy projects. Very cutting edge. Hey, is there any jam?"

"Um, I didn't see any, but I don't think I checked all the cabinets. It seemed like pretty bare bones non-perishables in here, though."

"Hmm." Tony got up and opened a single cabinet, which turned out to be empty, then asked, "JARVIS, is there any jam anywhere around here? This would be better with jam."

After a moment, the AI responded, "There is some raspberry jam in the refrigerator in the tenth floor break room."

"Tenth floor?" Tony whined. Bruce had no idea what floor they were currently on, but he assumed it was a lot higher than ten. "I guess just the peanut butter is fine."

"Oh, you know, not jam, but I think I saw…" Bruce trailed off and opened a cabinet. He pulled out a plastic bear-shaped bottle of honey and handed it to Tony. "That would go with the peanut butter." Then he slid another roti off the skillet onto Tony's plate. 

Tony smiled. "Thanks, honey," he said.

Bruce turned back to the stove so Tony wouldn't see him blush at the joke. 

"Hey, do you want coffee?" Tony said. "I can't cook, but I can do that."

"Coffee? It's the middle of the night."

"Well, I'm not planning on going back to sleep any time soon, are you?"

"Fair enough. Yeah, sure, I'll have some. Thanks."

"How do you take it?"

Bruce actually preferred tea, but he had long ago developed the ability to drink coffee in whatever form it presented himself. "Black is fine. Or, no, actually, would you put a little honey in it?"

"Hmm, I've never tried honey in coffee."

"It's sweet but it gives it a little bit more flavor than just sugar."

"Well, your other ideas have been pretty genius level so far," Tony said. "I guess I'll try it that way too."

Bruce had just put the last roti on the pan when Tony brought him a mug of coffee. Tony lifted his own mug and lingered next to Bruce at the stove.

"Hey, don't leave me hanging, Banner."

Bruce belatedly realized Tony had intended a toast, and he raised his coffee mug with a nod.

"Here's to the start of a beautiful partnership," he said. Tony's tone somehow seemed 100% ironic and 100% sincere. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at Bruce.

Bruce clinked his mug against Tony's and smiled back. Maybe he could at least stay until Tony finished rebuilding Stark Tower.

* * *

2) 

Bruce clutched his fancy glass of ginger ale and glanced around the crowded ballroom, looking desperately for a friendly face. He'd only agreed to attend this party to celebrate the re-opening of Stark Tower as Avengers Tower because Tony had insisted, but he hadn't seen Tony in at least an hour. Steve had chatted with Bruce for awhile, but so many other people wanted to talk to (and snag a selfie with) Steve that Bruce had felt guilty about monopolizing him. He'd excused himself to carefully study a centerpiece on a table across the room. 

He finished his soda and realized he was hungry. It was the kind of party where waiters were wandering around with fancy hors d'oeuvres on trays, but Bruce couldn't tell which ones were vegetarian and was too anxious to ask. He took one last look around the room and finally concluded that if he couldn't see Tony, then Tony wouldn't notice or care if Bruce left early. He smiled to himself with relief as he set his empty glass down on a bar and made his way out to the elevator. He was debating if he should change out of his tux and then stop in the kitchen, or just stop in the kitchen and bring some food back to his room, when JARVIS said, "Dr. Banner, Master Stark could use your assistance in his workshop."

Bruce looked up at the ceiling of the elevator, as if he could see JARVIS's face there. "What? He's--he's in his workshop, not at the party?"

"Correct, he is in his workshop on the 88th floor."

"Is he hurt? Is it an emergency?"

"He could use your assistance," JARVIS repeated.

Sometimes it seemed to Bruce like JARVIS spoke in a code that he hadn't quite cracked. "Okay, of course, please take me to that floor." He assumed that JARVIS would have called 911 if it were really serious, but he was still worried. 

Bruce hurried out of the elevator. JARVIS opened the workshop door for him. Bruce braced himself for some kind of industrial accident and instead saw Tony, still wearing his tux, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He had his knees to his chest and was breathing heavily. Bruce crossed the room and knelt next to Tony. He recognized a panic attack when he saw one.

"Hey, just breathe," he said calmly.

"B-Bruce? I'm--I'm--"

"Just breathe in…" Bruce said. He waited for Tony to breathe. "...and out."

Bruce sat and talked and breathed with Tony for a few minutes until Tony's breathing normalized. He awkwardly patted Tony's shoulder and said, "You're okay."

"Yeah," Tony agreed shakily. They sat quietly side by side for a moment, and then Tony said, "Great party, huh?"

Bruce laughed. "It seemed...nice."

"You're a terrible liar."

"...Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Tony said. "I didn't think--I--usually Pepper is at those things to kind of...be a buffer...and...fuck." He bowed his face into his knees. Bruce felt the urge to put a comforting arm around Tony, but he wasn't sure Tony would want that from him.

Bruce twisted his hands together and said, "I can't imagine. Nobody at that party wanted to talk to me and I still couldn't handle it."

"Shit, Bruce, I didn't think--sorry."

"No, I didn't mean--just, it must be hard to be the center of attention."

"I don't mind that, I just--when people ask me about--I don't want to talk about--"

"You don't have to talk about anything."

Tony nodded, and they sat quietly for another moment. Then Tony said, "I--I'm fine, Bruce, you should go back to the party."

Bruce blurted out, "Do I have to?"

Then Tony laughed. "No, big guy, you don't have to."

"I--I can leave you alone if you want, though." Bruce didn't want to impose on Tony's space if he wanted some quiet; he'd come up here at JARVIS's request, not Tony's. Now that Tony's panic attack was over, he couldn't tell if Tony actually wanted him there or not.

Tony just shrugged. Bruce stood up and said, "Okay, well...good night, Tony. Um, call me if you need anything?"

"Mm-hmm," Tony said.

Bruce gave Tony one last look as he left the workshop. Bruce went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. But as he ate, he couldn't shake the mental image of Tony sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest. Bruce finished his sandwich and started heating up some milk on the stove, gnawing on dried fruit while he waited. Once the milk was hot, he stirred in sugar, cocoa powder, cinnamon, and a hint of cayenne pepper. He tucked the bag of fruit into his pocket and carefully carried two mugs of cocoa back to the workshop.

He hesitated for a moment outside the door before entering. Maybe this was too intimate, or too silly. This was Tony Stark, after all. He didn't need some child's drink from an awkward scientist who, in the best of circumstances would send a casual conversation grinding to a halt, and in the worst of circumstances would destroy the newly re-designed building. But Bruce thought about how kind Tony had been to Bruce and decided he'd rather risk rejection than to leave Tony alone if he _did_ want company. JARVIS slid open the door and Bruce saw that Tony hadn't moved from his spot on the floor. Bruce sat back down next to Tony and silently set a mug in front of him.

Tony flicked his eyes sidelong at him. "You didn't have to…"

"I wanted to."

Tony held the mug in both hands and smelled it. "Oh, is this hot chocolate?"

"I--I didn't think coffee would be good right now. Too much caffeine…"

"I don't think I've had hot chocolate since I was a kid. Oh, Christ, this is good."

Bruce smiled and took a sip from his own mug. Sometimes, when he could, he’d made cocoa for the neighborhood kids who always seemed to befriend him wherever he’d lived. They’d always enjoyed it, but somehow not as rapturously as Tony did.

Tony took a few more sips and said, "I mean, I get--I get why Pepper left. I--I'm a goddamn mess. I can't even make it through a party without falling apart."

Bruce thought there was probably something he could say right now that would reassure Tony, but he had no idea what that thing might be. 

Tony sighed. "I'm sure she'll be happier and safer without me. I just--I thought she would come tonight. She worked so hard on the Tower...ugh, and I was so shitty to her about it."

"Oh, I'm sure...you weren't." Bruce thought he _had_ seen Pepper at the party, but maybe it was another redhead. He’d been pretty overwhelmed.

"I appreciate your faith in me, but...I was."

"Oh. Well...nobody's perfect?"

Tony laughed. "I like your standards, Bruce. Hey, I don't want to sound too needy, but did you bring any food?" Bruce fished the dried fruit out of his pocket and handed it over. "Thanks. I never manage to eat at these things."

"Me neither. All the trays stressed me out," Bruce admitted.

"And they never have any normal food. The next party I have, I should just have waiters walking around with whole pizzas."

"Or just put the pizza on a table. Just let people come to the food when they want it." As he said it, Bruce sheepishly realized he was describing the setup of a high school party.

But Tony leaned his head against Bruce's shoulder and said, with no evident sarcasm, "You're a genius, Bruce."

* * *

3) 

Bruce supposed nobody _liked_ waking up naked in a strange place, but for him it was an especially bad sign. As he stirred, the events of the previous night came back to him. He didn't think he'd Hulked out, but he might have done something almost as bad. Sure enough, he turned his head and saw Tony lying next to him, sleeping peacefully. Bruce felt flooded with retroactive panic. What had they been thinking? Bruce was dangerous. It was bad enough that he'd stayed in New York so long. He couldn't have _this_.

He slipped out of bed and tried to quietly find his clothes. He found them, but not as quietly as he'd hoped. Tony sat up in bed and said, "Hey, where do think you're going?"

"Oh…" Bruce froze.

His voice sultry, Tony said, "Unless you were going to make me breakfast in bed, I think you should come right back here."

"Yes! Breakfast, I was going to make breakfast," Bruce blurted out. 

He wriggled into his pants and almost ran out the door, even as Tony called, "Wait, I was kidding, come back!"

Bruce stared into the pantry. He could make pancakes easily. Too easily; he needed a distraction right now, a project he could lose himself in. "JARVIS, could you please pull up Julia Child's croissant recipe?"

"Of course, Dr. Banner." The AI complied and Bruce read through the complex recipe. He'd never made them before, but he'd always wanted to. He started measuring, melting, and mixing ingredients. He put the dough in the fridge to chill, and when he turned around, Tony was leaning against the counter.

"What'cha making?"

"Croissants."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Wow, fancy. When will they be ready? You've already been gone _forever_."

"Well, the dough needs to rest...and then to rise...and then you have to re-roll it, so...it'll be about eight more hours until they're ready."

Tony laughed. "Were you planning to leave me hanging for eight hours?" He came around the counter and put his hands on Bruce's shoulders. "Look, I can't pretend I don't enjoy your baked goods, but I'd rather have your...company."

Bruce bit his lip and ducked away from Tony's touch. He started washing dishes. "It's not eight hours of continuous labor, I just got them started…"

"Bruce? I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Please tell me."

Bruce looked up from the sink and was surprised by the pleading look in Tony's eyes. It hadn't occurred to him that Tony might think _he'd_ done something wrong. "No, Tony, sorry, you didn't...I just…."

"You just what?"

"It's not...safe."

"Ah. You're afraid the Other Guy will come out to play?" Tony looked oddly relieved for someone who had just described Bruce's worst nightmare. 

"You're _not_?"

"No," Tony said simply. 

"Well, you should be!"

Tony shook his head. "Nope."

"I'm serious."

"Me too."

Tony never had seemed afraid of Bruce, not even when they were confined on the helicarrier together. But even if Tony didn't know enough to protect himself, Bruce should. "Tony, if anything happened to you…"

"Bruce, do you remember what we _do_? Since the Chitauri, how many times have we gone out on missions with the Avengers?"

"I don't know. Too many."

"Maybe. But you know what all of those missions have had in common? The Hulk has _always_ had our backs, but especially mine."

"Maybe, but--"

"No. Definitely," Tony said firmly. "And how many times have you Hulked out on accident?"

"On the helicarrier--"

Tony sighed. "How many times have you accidentally Hulked out when you weren't in immediate physical danger?"

Bruce looked down into the sink. 

Tony continued, “Right. Zero times. And--and if you don't want to be with me, that's fine...well, it's not fine, exactly, but believe me, I get it. But if you're using the jolly green giant as an excuse, then I just want it on the record that that's bullshit."

Bruce dried his hands on a dishtowel and thought about Tony's words. "Of course I want to...be with you, but--"

"Nope," Tony said. "I don't care how you were planning on ending that sentence, I only care about the first part." He was grinning madly. 

All Bruce could think to say was, "Really?" 

Tony's face softened. He approached Bruce again, but didn't touch him. He looked him in the eyes and said, "Really. I want to be with you. You want to be with me. Unlike the rest of the stuff we do, it's not that complicated."

Bruce knew there were a hundred reasons why he should leave now, for both their sakes, but as he looked back into Tony's deep brown eyes, so warm and trusting...he realized he didn't want to leave. Maybe Tony was right and he didn't have to. He took a deep breath and said, "Okay."

Tony's wide smile returned. "You don't have the oven on or anything, do you?" 

"No, I won't need to preheat it until...um, much later in the process."

"Great." And then Tony cupped Bruce's face in his hands and kissed him. Bruce put his arms around Tony and kissed him back. "Now, why don't you come back to bed?"

"...Okay."

Tony put an arm around Bruce's shoulders and propelled him down the hall. "Croissants, honestly, Bruce."

"Sorry. I--I just needed a minute to think."

"You could have a _minute_ , but eight hours? How was I supposed to keep myself occupied for eight hours without you?"

"I need to go back and roll out the dough in three hours."

"Well, I'll have JARVIS pencil that in your schedule, pending availability." Back in Tony's bedroom, Tony licked his lips and said, "Now. I need a pre-croissant snack."

"Oh, I could--"

"I meant you, Bruce, you're the snack. I was trying for a thing…" They both laughed. "It wasn't my best double entendre, I admit. I'll try again later." Then Tony gently pushed Bruce down on the bed and put his mouth to work elsewhere. Bruce suddenly found it hard to remember why he'd been so eager to get out of bed that morning.

Much later that day, Bruce finally took the finished croissants out of the oven. He paused to admire the fruits of his labor. They didn't look quite like Julia's, but they were decent for a first attempt. Tony perched up on the granite countertop and looked on.

"I can't believe you spent eight hours on something that I'm going to eat in 30 seconds."

"You just have to enjoy it while it lasts, I guess." 

"Good advice," Tony said with a smirk.

Bruce spread raspberry jam on a warm croissant. He handed it to Tony and watched him expectantly. "Well?"

Tony took a bite and said, "Bruce, this is really good. Delicious. But, I'm going to be honest, not as good as having sex with you."

Bruce laughed. "Thanks, I guess."

Around another mouthful of croissant, Tony said, "Like, if your morning-after thing is that you need to get up and make elaborate pastries, maybe we can put one of those E-Z Bake ovens on the nightstand? Then you don't have to leave."

"That's an idea." Bruce sat next to Tony and took his own bite of croissant. 

"Hey, I'm down with whatever melts your butter," Tony said. "That was a pretty good baking pun, right?"

"Are you just trying to get a rise out of me?" Tony tilted his head, and Bruce said, "Like--like yeast?"

Tony laughed and squeezed Bruce's knee. "It's sweet how you're trying. Like sugar."

Bruce leaned against Tony's shoulder and laughed. Maybe this would all burn out horribly, like an unattended caramel sauce. But he decided he might as well at least try to enjoy this moment, warm and soft like a croissant fresh from the oven.

* * *

4) 

His time with the Avengers had led Bruce to conclude that changing back from the Other Guy didn't always have to be completely miserable; with the right assistance, it could be merely uncomfortable. When he came back to himself, he was like a toddler--he needed to be dressed, fed, and put to bed. Tonight, like most times, Tony was right there for him.

"Hey, Bruce. You didn't hurt anyone," Tony told him, without Bruce even having to ask.

Bruce just nodded, relieved. After Tony helped Bruce put on a pair of canvas shoes and a soft long-sleeved T-shirt over his stretchy pants, he pulled Bruce into a hug and murmured, “Welcome back.” Then he handed Bruce a Gatorade and granola bar and guided him to a seat on the Quinjet. 

After Bruce refueled himself, his sluggish brain realized that something seemed a little off about Tony. He was too quiet. "Tony? You okay?"

Tony smiled. "I'm just peachy."

That didn't quite check out, but Bruce was too tired to investigate further. He said, "Okay."

Tony draped a blanket around Bruce and said, "C'mere, big guy, we're safe now. You can sleep."

Bruce slumped over and rested his head on Tony's lap. Tony idly stroked Bruce's hair until Bruce drifted off. A few times over the course of the flight, he woke up and heard hushed conversations, but he couldn't quite hold on to anything, and quickly slipped back into sleep.

When they made it back to Avengers Tower, the team split up and went their separate ways. No one needed any medical attention from Bruce, which was always a good sign. Bruce and Tony went up to the penthouse together, where JARVIS had already arranged for Thai takeout delivery.

Bruce happily shoveled spicy tofu panang curry into his mouth. Gradually, as his mind caught up with his metabolism, he noticed that Tony wasn't chattering away like usual. He wasn't eating, either; he was just glumly sitting at the kitchen table and staring at his tablet. Quietly, Bruce went to stand behind Tony. He watched the screen for a few minutes and sighed. He squeezed Tony's shoulder and said, "I'll be right back."

While he heated water in the kettle, he watched more footage from the night's mission on his own device. Bruce knew that he wasn't the only one who could suffer from intense bouts of post-mission guilt, and watching the footage of Iron Man rescuing Captain America from a particularly close call, he thought he understood what Tony would have taken away from it--not relief in the successful rescue, but guilt over how nearly it could have failed. He peeled and sliced some fresh ginger into the water, then added honey and lemon. He tasted it and added more honey. While it steeped, he glanced back at Tony, who was still sitting at the table, staring at his tablet with his food untouched. Bruce filtered the tea into a mug and brought it over to Tony.

Tony looked into the mug suspiciously, and then looked up at Bruce.

"It's ginger tea. It should help settle your stomach. It helps me when I'm feeling anxious."

"What? How--did you know?"

Bruce rubbed Tony's back and said, "You weren't eating, you were glued to the mission footage. I know you, you're blaming yourself for the thing with Steve. _He's_ fine, but _your_ stomach's probably in knots." As Bruce had gotten to know Tony, it had surprised him to learn how much anxiety and guilt Tony hid behind his cocky public image. Now he was pretty good at noticing the signs, even when Tony was trying harder to hide them than he was now.

Looking stricken, Tony said, "It was _so close_ , Bruce, I almost didn't catch him. He could have--"

"But you _did_ catch him," Bruce said, although he knew anxiety didn't always respond well to facts.

"I need to be faster, I need…"

"You need to drink this tea, Tony. You can't catch anybody if you don't take care of yourself."

"I hate tea."

"I put a frankly disgusting amount of honey into it for you. Just try it."

Tony took a reluctant sip and shrugged. "It's not terrible."

Bruce smiled. Having taken the edge off his own hunger, Bruce slowed his eating to a more normal human pace. He watched approvingly as Tony drank the tea. Tony picked at his food and ate a little plain rice. Bruce knew that Tony didn't have the kind of gamma-fueled metabolism problems that Bruce himself had; but piloting the Iron Man armor in combat was a deceptively strenuous physical activity. Tony was going to need more protein, but Bruce could work on that later. 

Bruce put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher and asked, "Do you want to go to bed?"

"You go, I'll catch up with you in a minute," Tony said.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go, sorry, I know you're exhausted."

Despite having dozed on the flight, Bruce _was_ exhausted. He was also always inclined to take it at face value whenever anyone told him to leave them alone. Still, he felt uneasy about Tony's mental state, and he hovered uncertainly.

"What is it?" Tony asked after a long pause.

"Just--you'll wake me if you need anything?"

"Yeah."

Bruce still hesitated, and then he said, "JARVIS, will you please wake me up if Tony needs anything? Anything at all."

"Certainly, Dr. Banner."

"I hate it when you two team up," Tony grumbled.

"JARVIS does his best, but you didn't give him any arms, Tony."

"It is one of my major failings, sir," JARVIS agreed.

"You're both--I don't know what I'd do without you," Tony said. "Now go to bed, Bruce!"

"Fine," Bruce said. He strained more tea into Tony's mug and gave him a quick kiss before leaving the kitchen. He was still worried about Tony, but he also needed to follow his own advice--he'd be better able to take care of Tony after he slept off the rest of this post-Hulk crash. 

"Look out for him, JARVIS," Bruce mumbled into the darkness of their bedroom.

"I always do, Dr. Banner. Good night."

"Good night, JARVIS," Bruce replied, before falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

5) 

When Bruce got up the morning after Steve's close call, he found Tony flopped on the couch, tapping away on his tablet. Bruce had slept hard, a deep, post-Hulk sleep, so it was possible that Tony had come to bed and left again before Bruce had awakened. But from the empty coffee mug next to him and the jittery energy Tony was giving off, he didn't think Tony had come to bed at all.

Bruce hadn't known Tony back when his arc reactor was actively poisoning him, but he'd heard stories from Pepper, Rhodey, Nat, and JARVIS. As Bruce's presence in Tony's life became more firmly entrenched, they'd all eventually reached out to Bruce in their own ways, encouraging him to take care of himself and Tony. Bruce tried his best, but he wasn't sure that he was qualified for the task. Bruce could handle basic medical care, of course, but Tony's needs were rarely basic, and he wasn't good at expressing them. 

Tony seemed to have dialed back his aggressively self-destructive behavior since the palladium poisoning era, but he still made plenty of questionable choices. Bruce just wasn't always sure what he was supposed to do about them, especially considering that Bruce himself was arguably one of Tony's most questionable choices.

"Hey, Tony," he said softly.

"Bruce, you're up! Look at this," Tony replied. He flung a holographic projection at Bruce. Bruce blinked at it for a moment before understanding it to be a wireframe model of an Iron Man armor.

"Did you work on this all night?"

"Yeah. I want to start putting it into production today. See, the power coupling is much more efficient and there's an added thruster, so I should be able to reach top speeds of Mach 5."

In spite of himself, Bruce was impressed. But he said, "Okay. But maybe you should sleep, first?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You sound like JARVIS."

"Well...JARVIS is very smart."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner," JARVIS said smoothly.

"Bruce, you know how it goes, I can't sleep until I do this, I just can't stop thinking about it. It'll go way faster if you help. It's not even a whole new suit, it's just an upgrade to the current Mark. It'll be easy if the two of us combine our genius."

"...Okay," Bruce agreed. He never knew how to say no to Tony. Besides, he was pretty sure that if he _did_ say no, Tony would just go and do it without him. At least Bruce could probably keep an eye on him and keep him from doing anything too reckless. "But as soon as it's done, you have to get some sleep. And eat something."

Tony beamed. "Great! Let's go!"

Bruce trailed behind Tony, marveling at how skilled he was with his welders torch even on no sleep. They really did work together efficiently, and they'd completed a working upgrade to Tony's already state-of-the-art technology in less than an 8-hour workday.

"Yes!" Tony held out his hand for a high five. 

Bruce slapped his hand and said, "Okay, I held up my end of the bargain, now you hold up yours."

"Bruce, you can't expect me to sleep when I'm full of engineering endorphins."

Bruce crossed his arms. "I do."

"Maybe if you slept _with_ me...and by sleep with I mean have sex with? I bet I'd fall right to sleep afterward."

Bruce bit his lip. It wasn't like he and Tony hadn't had sex in the workshop before. And Tony probably _would_ fall asleep afterward. But he didn't want Tony to think that Bruce was a complete pushover. (Even though Bruce knew that he _was_ a complete pushover, at least where Tony was concerned.)

"You're thinking about it!" Tony crowed. "C'mon, I'll do that thing you like." He waggled his eyebrows.

Bruce sighed. "You know what thing I'd really like for you to do? _Go to sleep_." Tony pouted and Bruce said, "At least a nap. Take a nap while I make lunch. Dinner. Whatever. And then we can see...how we're feeling afterward."

"Ugh, fine."

Tony settled onto the couch in the common room adjacent to the kitchen. For white noise, Bruce turned on an episode of Planet Earth II that they'd already watched. He lightly rubbed Tony's shoulders and said, "I'll see you when you wake up."

Tony scrunched up his face with performative annoyance, but he did close his eyes, which Bruce accepted as progress. Bruce went into the kitchen and tapped the panel to make the fridge door translucent. He stared at the fridge's contents for a long time, waiting for culinary inspiration to strike.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"What, um, what do you think Tony might want to eat?" He felt a little silly for asking. JARVIS didn't eat food, after all. But he probably knew Tony better than anyone, and Bruce was at a bit of a loss.

"I have a recipe for you, Dr. Banner. My namesake, Edwin Jarvis, used to make it for young Master Stark. I believe all the ingredients should be available here in this kitchen."

JARVIS projected a recipe for Bruce. "Beef stew, huh? Yeah, okay, this seems very doable. Good source of protein, anyway…"

Bruce was always a little cautious about cooking meat; he'd been vegetarian for so long that he didn't always know what it was supposed to look like when it was done, and of course, he couldn't sample things as he cooked. But he didn't mind cooking meat when the occasion called for it, and this recipe seemed pretty foolproof. The fridge was stocked with a higher quality of meat than Bruce thought most people would use for stew, but he figured that could only help the stew. He prepped the meat and started chopping vegetables.

"The recipe I'm showing you has been adapted from the original," JARVIS said. "Master Stark prefers it with more potatoes than the original recipe calls for."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Bruce chopped the extra potatoes without complaint, and he resisted the urge to add some cayenne pepper or cumin or something to give the stew a little more kick. He followed the old recipe faithfully, and then left it to simmer. He crept back out to the common room to check on Tony, and was relieved to see that Tony seemed to be asleep.

Bruce went back to the kitchen. He knew that now that the stew was simmering, it only needed to be stirred occasionally, but he really didn't want to fuck it up. He perched at the kitchen table with a tablet, keeping a vigilant eye on the stove. 

"JARVIS, could you please set a timer to go off every 15 minutes or so?"

"Of course, Dr. Banner I...appreciate you looking out for Master Stark."

"Oh, yeah, of course. I, um, appreciate your help."

Bruce had the odd feeling that he'd entered a companionable silence with the ever-present AI, and he passed a quiet evening reading quietly with sporadic interruptions as JARVIS prompted him to stir the stew. He'd nearly finished the biography was reading, and the kitchen smelled delicious, even to Bruce's vegetarian palate. He was standing at the stove stirring when he heard Tony walk up behind him.

Tony slipped his arms around Bruce's waist and kissed his cheek. "This smells _amazing_. Is this--um--could--?"

Bruce turned around and offered him the ladle. "I hope it tastes okay. I haven't tried it...it might need salt?"

Tony lifted the ladle to his lips. His eyes widened. "It's--perfect, exactly how Jarvis used to--Bruce, how did you…?"

"I had some assistance."

"JARVIS? You still have his--oh, my god, thank you." Tony put the ladle back in the pot and kissed Bruce. "Oh, no, sorry, I have beef mouth, I didn't--I just-- _thank you_."

Bruce smiled and kissed him back. Truthfully, his flexible attitudes about meat notwithstanding, he didn't love the beef mouth, but he was happy to see Tony happy. "You're welcome. Think you could eat some more of it?"

Tony nodded, and Bruce ladled up a bowl for him. He watched with satisfaction as Tony wordlessly ate it all and went back for seconds. Bruce put the leftovers in the fridge and followed Tony back out to the common room, where Tony sprawled out on the couch again. Planet Earth II was still on in the background.

"Bruce?" Tony asked.

"Mm-hmm?"

"I know I talked a big game about doing that thing you like after dinner, but would you possibly take a rain check on that? I--I'm just too full to move right now. I mean, if you want, I could try, but it just wouldn't be my best effort, and you deserve the best--"

"Shh," Bruce said. "Scoot over."

He maneuvered himself onto the couch and snuggled Tony to his chest, then tugged a blanket over both of them. 

Tony sighed. "You're so good to me, Bruce."

"I try."

"I mean it, you take such good care of me."

"Well, someone has to."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Shh," Bruce said, stroking Tony's back. "You do so much. Just rest, now."

"Okay," Tony mumbled. "Just--just gonna sleep for a little while. And then, that thing you like."

"Sounds great," Bruce agreed. He kept lightly rubbing Tony's back until he heard Tony's soft snores. Bruce smiled and listened to David Attenborough calmly narrate the difficulties penguins faced in providing for their mates.

* * *

*)

After a productive day in the workshop, Tony rolled his chair over to Bruce's workstation. "Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"Quick question...how come I had to find out today's your birthday from _JARVIS_?"

Bruce winced. He'd thought he had gotten away with it. "Oh...I just...don't like to make a big deal out of it."

"Bruce! It's a _huge_ deal that you were born."

In spite of himself, Bruce smiled at Tony's indignation.

"Anyway, JARVIS didn't mention it until last week, which was not really enough time for me to get together any kind of big party or anything fun," Tony said with a pout.

"Oh no, how terrible," Bruce said drily.

"Yeah, see, I got there eventually. It did occur to me, with only the slightest of prompting from JARVIS, that you would probably hate any kind of big surprise gesture."

"I definitely would."

Tony sighed. "Even though I'm _excellent_ at big surprise gestures."

"I know you are, Tony. But I really appreciate your restraint."

"Don't you want _anything_ for your birthday?"

Bruce shrugged. "I don't see how I could possibly want anything more than what I have."

Tony leaned in and kissed Bruce. "God, you're so cute. I, um, I do have a surprise for you, though?"

Bruce tensed. 

Tony clarified, "Aw, no, it's--you'll like it, I'm pretty sure. If it turns out okay. God, I hope it turns out okay."

"I'm sure it will," Bruce said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

"Okay, well, come to the kitchen with me?"

"Sure," Bruce agreed with some relief. The kitchen wasn't that big. Any kitchen-based surprise was probably going to be reasonable in scale. 

Once they got to the kitchen, Tony seemed uncharacteristically nervous, which made Bruce nervous in turn. He was pleased, though, that no one jumped out at him or anything.

Tony said, "I, uh, since you always cook for me, I thought maybe I'd make dinner for your birthday?"

Bruce smiled. "Oh, Tony, that's really sweet."

"But, you know...well, you know it pains me to admit that there's anything I'm not good at, but I have to admit that cooking is not...my area of expertise. But I, uh, I heard about this service, Green Apron? Where they send you recipes and--"

"I know what Green Apron is, I listen to the same podcasts you do," Bruce said, still smiling.

"Right. Okay. Well...I got one? And I thought I'd make it for you? And if it turns out horrible, we'll get pizza?"

Bruce kissed Tony. "That sounds great." 

Looking pleased with himself, Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a large cardboard box. He peered in the box, and his face fell. He dug through it carefully and forlornly extracted three sheets of paper. "Christ, I'm an idiot," he muttered.

"Hey, no, you're definitely not."

"Okay, fine, not technically, but I--I didn't--there are three different meals in here and none of them are vegetarian," Tony wailed.

Bruce covered his mouth with his hand. Tony seemed genuinely upset, and Bruce didn't want to make it worse by laughing. 

"Are you laughing?" Tony demanded.

"No...a little?"

Tony sighed. "I can't believe I screwed up something as simple as this. I mean I guess I can, did I ever tell you about the time I tried to make up with Pepper by giving her strawberries?"

"Isn't Pepper allergic to strawberries?"

Tony crossed his arms and glared. "I can't believe you knew that," he muttered.

"Sorry," Bruce said. "Look, um, if you still want to try to cook, I have a lot of experience adapting recipes to make them vegetarian. I'm sure we could still make one of these work. If you want."

"It's _your_ birthday. What do you want to do? Pizza's not off the table."

"Let me see." Bruce took the recipe cards from Tony. He wouldn't have minded pizza, but Tony clearly wanted to try to cook, and Bruce was touched by his efforts. "Okay, here. This chicken panzanella salad? We can just swap out the chicken for mozzarella, make it kind of a caprese panzanella. That'll be easy."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. You built an arc reactor in a cave, Tony. You can make a salad. Just follow the directions."

Tony moaned. "But I'm terrible at following directions!"

"We'll take it one step at a time. First, let's preheat the oven."

"Okay, yeah, I can do that." Tony did.

"Great. What's next?"

Tony studied the sheet and said, "See? I'm already lost. Now it says to 'roughly dice' the bread. What does that mean?"

"It means cut it but don't worry about making precise, even cuts."

"Why didn't they just say that?"

"I think there were guidelines on the back of the recipe card…" Bruce tapped it. "The pieces should look like that. Do you want me to do it?"

"No! I'm doing it." Tony clutched a baguette in one hand and a knife in the other. Bruce silently pulled out a cutting board and put it down in front of Tony. Bruce had seen Tony dismantle weapons with less care than he took to hesitantly chop the baguette. 

"Is this good?" Tony asked, looking at the pile of bread squares he'd painstakingly made.

Bruce smiled encouragingly. "Perfect." He handed Tony a baking sheet and watched as Tony spread out the bread and drizzled it with olive oil, per the instruction sheet. "So we'll put those into bake after the oven preheats, and then you're going to do pretty much the same thing with the vegetables. It's--it's kind of relaxing, right? You can kind of just zone out."

"You zone out with this knife in your hand?"

"Kind of?"

Tony sighed. "I can't believe you lecture _me_ about lab safety."

"I don't _lecture_. I just _worry_ about you."

"Sure, Bruce," Tony said. He rolled his eyes, but his tone was fond. He carefully mixed the salad dressing and held it out to Bruce for approval.

Bruce dipped his finger in the bowl and tasted it. "This is great! Now, the next step is the chicken. We might as well cook it so it doesn't go to waste, and you can eat it on the side?"

"Hey, you know, I never asked...how long have you been a vegetarian?"

"Oh...well, I guess since college, but when I was, um, traveling, I was more what you'd call a freegan."

Tony laughed. "A _freegan_?"

Bruce shrugged. "I wouldn't turn down anything if it was free. It's kind of a fancy way of saying 'dumpster diver.'"

"Oh." Tony's face fell. "God, Bruce."

"It's fine! I was fine. People always looked out for me, even in the poorest places, they'd share whatever they had…but, yeah, when I have the privilege to choose...I prefer not to eat meat. But it’s just personal, I don’t care if you do, you know that.” 

"I know. Did you always like to cook or was it more just, you know, circumstance?"

“The circumstance of not being able to afford takeout, you mean? Yeah, I...uh, I guess, when I was little I used to like to help my mom, and, uh...um." Bruce hadn't meant to let his mind wander back to his childhood. He took a deep breath, dug his fingernails into his palms and reminded himself where he was. He was safe, here in the kitchen with Tony. "Yeah, I do like to cook. Especially with a real kitchen and everything, but even without...it's nice to make stuff that tastes good, even back when it was just trying to make our grad student ramen noodles more edible. And I like--I like to share what I make." 

Tony looked up from the chicken he was attempting to season and smiled. "I have noticed that. I'm _so glad_ I convinced you to live with me."

Bruce smiled back and gestured at the kitchen. "Well, it wasn't really a hard sell."

"Ah, you only love me for my granite countertops."

"Mm-hmm, and your double convection oven." Bruce slipped behind Tony, putting his arms around Tony's waist and nuzzling his cheek. 

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?" Tony asked. Bruce kissed his cheek. "Wait, I want to put this chicken in the pan before you distract me with your wiles."

Obligingly, Bruce stepped back. "Well, I didn't say you had to move," Tony grumbled. He put the chicken on the pan. "Okay, it says to cook it for 5-7 minutes per side. So that gives us, let's say, six minutes for wiles. JARVIS, set a timer." Tony washed his hands and then pulled Bruce into an embrace. After six minutes, JARVIS prompted Tony to turn over the chicken, and he reluctantly pulled away from Bruce to do so. "Hey, it looks pretty good," Tony said, clearly impressed with himself.

After another enjoyable six minutes, Tony took the finished chicken off the pan and was carefully cutting it into pieces when JARVIS said, "Master Stark, your guests have assembled in the penthouse lounge."

"Guests?" Bruce asked. He gave Tony an accusing look. "You said no party."

Tony held his hands up, palms out. "Well...I said no _big_ party. This is just...a small gathering. I promise."

"This is only enough food for two people."

"We...may have run a little behind schedule for the evening, and that is on me. Everyone else is only expecting dessert and drinks. And they can wait."

"Who's everyone?"

"Just, you know, the team, and Rhodey. And Pepper."

Bruce let out a breath and nodded. 

"See? A small, fun, surprise. But Bruce, everyone wanted to wish you a happy birthday. It wouldn't have been fair for me to keep you all to myself, even though I obviously wanted to." Tony gave him pleading, puppy-dog eyes.

"Okay. Yeah," Bruce said. "That's fine." He covered the salad bowl and put it in the fridge.

"Seriously, though, they can wait, we can eat the salad first."

"Nah, let's do dessert first. It's my birthday, after all."

Tony grinned. "That's the spirit!" He put an arm around Bruce and walked him to his birthday gathering. As promised, it was small and quiet, but his friends and teammates sang to him and gave him cards and all seemed genuinely happy that Bruce had been born. He blew out the candles on a dark chocolate cake that had been delivered from the cooperative bakery Bruce liked. As he distributed pieces of cake, he realized Tony was missing from the small crowd.

He quietly slipped out of the room after making sure everyone else had gotten a piece of cake. “Hey, JARVIS? Have you seen Tony?” He felt silly asking, since obviously JARVIS saw everything. 

“He’s in the kitchen, Dr. Banner. And, may I say, happy birthday.”

“Thanks!”

Bruce coughed when he entered the kitchen. It smelled like smoke.

“Oh, the bread!” he exclaimed. Somehow with everything else that had been going on, he’d managed to forget about the “pan” in the panzanella salad, the homemade croutons they’d put in to bake on high heat.

“Yeah,” Tony said, his face crestfallen. “The bread. I’m so sorry, Bruce, I forgot about the bread. JARVIS put the fire out, but the bread is ruined.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I forgot, too. I guess we didn't set a timer for that, huh?”

“But it’s your birthday. You shouldn’t have had to remember.”

Bruce cracked open a window and turned on the vent fan. Then he put an arm around Tony. “Hey, let’s go back to the party. You didn’t get any cake.”

“I ruined your birthday dinner.”

“Hey, shh, c’mon, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s really depressing.”

Bruce thought about that for a second. He'd had a few objectively good birthdays in grad school, but he'd really been too stressed out to properly appreciate them. This year, though, he'd had cake with his friends and teammates, and his adorable superhero boyfriend had made him most of a salad. He said, “You’re only saying that because you haven’t gotten any cake yet. It's really good cake. Besides, the rest of the salad is fine, and it'll taste better later, after it’s had some time to marinate.” 

“And after the kitchen doesn’t smell so...on fire.”

Bruce smiled. “Yeah. And that.”

Tony kissed him. “Mm, you taste like cake.”

“See, I told you it was good cake.”

Back at the party, Bruce handed Tony a piece of cake, and took a second piece for himself while he was at it. It was his birthday, after all.

Pepper handed him a card and said, “Happy birthday, Bruce! Why do you two smell like smoke?”

“Hmm?” Bruce asked, feigning ignorance.

She shook her head. “Never mind. The building’s not actively on fire, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

“It _is_ fine!” Tony said. 

She laughed, not unkindly. “Oh, god, I’m so glad you two geniuses are looking out for each other now.”

“Me, too,” Bruce said. It really was the best birthday he’d ever had.


End file.
